


we’re the has-beens of husbands

by epilogues



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up, Van Days, i don’t even know what this is tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 19:31:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18058652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epilogues/pseuds/epilogues
Summary: He loves me, he loves me not.





	we’re the has-beens of husbands

**Author's Note:**

> i think this is the first andy-centric fic ive ever written, which is wild? but anyway yeah it feels fairly vent-y so i’d just like to say that i’m not trying to imply that anything in the fic is a direct parallel to anything irl! thanks!

The last petal of the flower in Andy’s hand sings unrequited love - like he didn’t know anyway.

He drops what’s left of the daffodil back onto the ground with a sigh and resists the urge to crush it with the heel of his shoe. Something needs to stay intact here, and Andy’s heart isn’t exactly a candidate for that anymore. So he leaves the flower be, whispering a soft, pointless apology for tearing its petals away, and walks over to meet the rest of the band in the van. 

 

“Took you long enough, dude, did you find Doritos or not?” Joe asks. 

 

Andy shakes his head. “No, they didn’t really have much in there.” He doesn’t mention that he left the convenience store only a minute after entering because he saw the look Pete was giving Patrick as they stumbled, laughing, into the small bathroom. Andy knows how that one ends, and he was  _not_  about to stick around and have to listen to it.

 

“God, I hate this fucking - what state are we even in?” 

 

Andy shrugs as he climbs into the van. “Missouri, I think, but I don’t even know anymore.”

 

Joe doesn’t bother replying, just shoves his headphones back on and turns the volume up enough for Andy to clearly hear the Metallica he’s blasting. Andy switches the radio on in response, letting the mostly-static sound wash over him in the hopes it’ll drown out his thoughts. 

 

That sort of works until Pete and Patrick come crashing through the doors, faces red and hair messed to hell. Andy rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything, because he honestly doesn’t want to know what would come out of his mouth.

 

“You still driving, Andy?” Pete asks.

 

Andy nods and decidedly doesn’t think about how the last time Pete asked him that question, Pete called him babe. 

 

“Okay, cool, if you get tired during the night, just wake up Joe. I need some, uh, sleep.”

 

Patrick coughs suspiciously into Pete’s shoulder at that, and Andy starts the car just to have something to do with his hands that’s not punching through the windshield. It’s technically effective, but it doesn’t keep him from wanting to scream/cry/crash the goddamn car when he glances in the rearview mirror ten minutes later. 

 

Pete and Patrick are curled together under a blanket in the backseat. Andy remembers that blanket, remembers how he and Pete used to wrap themselves in it when Pete couldn’t sleep, remembers that it smells like Pete and is supposed to smell like Andy but probably won’t after another two days. Andy remembers the blanket, and he remembers the smile that Pete’s currently giving Patrick, except -

 

Except it looks so much wider now. Pete looks so goddamn happy, and hey, why shouldn’t he be? He’s with Patrick, his soulmate, his other half, his everything that Andy evidently couldn’t be. 

 

And that’s absolutely fucking fine with Andy, he swears. 

 

“-so much, I swear, I don’t know how it took me so long to realize,” say the whispers fading in from the backseat. It’s Pete’s voice, of course it is, because he’s never known how to keep his feelings anywhere but on his sleeve or in the ears of someone else. 

 

Patrick says something back that Andy can’t hear, and Pete laughs softly. It’s not his “I just stole Patrick’s hat” laugh or his “I’m only laughing at this girl’s joke because she’s letting us crash in her apartment tonight” laugh, but his genuine, just between you and me laugh. It used to be saved for Andy and late nights and soft kisses, and while it looks like two of those things have remained the same, one’s changed and it  _hurts_. 

 

Andy presses down on the gas pedal a little harder than necessary as he merges onto the interstate. He’s speeding, but it’s not like that matters when it’s one am and the roads are empty and everything Andy wants is two feet away but still out of reach. 

 

He can’t stop thinking about the daffodil from earlier as whispers and the soft sounds of kisses and rustling sleeping bags keep drifting up from the backseat. 

 

He loves me. 

 

“ _Hey, Andy, don’t freak out, I just want to say - uh. Fuck. This doesn’t have to change anything, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you_.”

 

He loves me not.

 

“ _I honestly can’t explain how I feel about Patrick, dude. He’s just everything_.”

 

He loves me. 

 

“ _You and me are gonna take over the world, babe. I promise.”_

He loves me not. 

 

_“I really don’t want this to affect the band, but I can’t keep pretending any longer, okay? I - I think I’m in love with Patrick.”_

 

He loves me. 

 

“ _I don’t think there’s anything that could make me stop loving you, Andy_.”

 

He loves me not. 

 

_“I’m sorry, really, I am. But I don’t love you anymore.”_

 

Pete’s words, past and present, mingle together with the static from the radio as Andy drives. After about an hour on the interstate, the whispering from the back stops and is replaced with Pete’s endearingobnoxious snores. 

 

Andy looks in the rearview mirror to find Pete and Patrick intertwined, not matching puzzle pieces but two halves finally making something whole, the universe finally setting something right, and he starts to wonder how many more nights like these it’ll take for him to get over this.  

 

He loves me not. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! feedback is rly appreciated!


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